


Well isn't this Wizzo?

by RoRoWeasley



Series: all of the steps that led me to you [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Big Spoon Scorpius Malfoy, Codependent Scorbus, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Domestic!Scorbus, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, One Shot, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Scorbus, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter Fluff, Short Albus Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 03:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18112040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoRoWeasley/pseuds/RoRoWeasley
Summary: “Wait, what do you mean you brought dinner? How did you know I wouldn’t have started cooking anything?”“I figured you’d be too worked up to cook.”Scorpius is late home from work and a little mischief ensues. Scorbus fluff to celebrate London Cast 4.





	Well isn't this Wizzo?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Katie (whats-wizzo on tumblr) for feeding my muse and being a beta! Prompt: Write a Scorbus fic with a focus on height difference because of the new CC LDN cast!

**Well isn’t this Wizzo?**  
~ a Cursed Child fic by RoRoWeasley ~

* * *

 

  
Albus Potter stopped pacing and checked his watch for the umpteenth time.  
  
A full three minutes had passed since he’d last looked. His boyfriend was a whole eight minutes late. Albus hated his days off. Well, his days off when Scorpius Malfoy was still stuck at work. They were no fun and he might as well just put in extra work hours himself just to keep busy.  
  
The day had been perpetually boring. All the possible chores he could imagine needed completing had been done. He’d reorganised his bedside drawers and the toiletry cabinet in the bathroom. He’d washed and changed the bedding, before getting curious and stripping and remaking the bed the Muggle way, something that he would probably never try again (a king-sized bed wasn’t meant to be remade by one person the Muggle way, let alone a rather-shorter-than-average twenty-year-old clumsily stuffing the duvet inside the duvet cover, a feat which ended up with Albus starfished across the mattress).  
  
He’d pruned and watered the plants on the balcony of their flat, baked some chocolate chip cookies, floo-called Grandma Weasley, replied to Teddy’s owl, and even managed to repaint the hallway. The only things he didn’t touch were Scorpius’ things, which were always impeccably organised and dust-free it almost made Albus jealous.  
  
Now he flopped down onto the couch, leaning his head back and taking a few deep breaths. There was no need to work himself up into a panic. Scor must have just had a last-minute emergency to deal with, something too big to leave behind. Being ten minutes late home was fine, all fine. Definitely fine.  
  
Tea. He needed some tea.  
  
The point at which he switched over to autopilot he wasn’t entirely sure of, only the next moment he was stirring his mug of steaming tea and summoning the milk from the fridge. Apparently, he’d been so zoned out he hadn’t even heard the whoosh of the fireplace.  
  
“Hey, you. I brought dinner.”  
  
Warm, pale, robeless arms snaked around his chest and he breathed deeply, relaxing into the familiar scent and body heat that encompassed him from behind, all stress and tension forgotten. The arms squeezed and his heart raced. He loved how Scorpius affected him so. He loved how he could soothe him and still set his heart into palpitations. He loved how his chin fit perfectly over the top of Albus’ head when he hugged him.  
  
His eyes caught the bag of takeaway food next to the mug, a brand new addition that certainly wasn’t there a few moments ago. Then he fully absorbed what Scor had said. “Wait, what do you mean you brought dinner? How did you know I wouldn’t have started cooking anything?”  
  
“I figured you’d be too worked up to cook.”  
  
Albus gaped, twisting in his arms so he was facing him. “Pfft, I’m sorry?”  
  
Scorpius shrugged, bringing his forehead forward to meet his. “I am a whole eighteen minutes late.”  
  
Albus couldn’t quite decide whether he wanted to hex his boyfriend or kiss him. Scor did the latter in the split-second after the thought crossed his mind and he melted into the kiss. His heart soared, finally able to have what he’d been waiting ten hours for. Scor’s lips were warm and tasted vaguely of the pepper imps he loved so much. Albus deepened the kiss, desperate to convey his emotions, how much he’d missed him, how much he truly loved the man standing before him.  
  
When they broke apart for air, Albus cocked an eyebrow.  
  
“You went to get food, from a Muggle takeaway, knowing it would make _you_ late and make _me_ fuss so I wouldn’t be able to cook anything myself?”  
  
“Yep,” was the simple reply, Scorpius popping the ‘p’.  
  
Albus smiled against his lips. “You are such a Slytherin. I can’t even be mad,” he said softly, running his hands over Scor’s bare, toned chest. He must have taken off his Healer robes and folded them over on the couch when he came through the Floo. Damn, did his boyfriend know how to push his buttons. “You even undressed for me.”  
  
Scor’s chest vibrated beneath his hands as he chuckled. “Well, I have missed you too and I should probably be slightly apologetic. You know, people used to say we were co-dependent. No idea where they got that from.”  
  
Albus pecked him on the lips. “Mmm, me neither. So, what’s for dinner?”  
  
Scorpius released him, picking up the takeaway bag and pirouetting dramatically, simultaneously removing containers from the bag before beginning to place them on the table. Albus laughed at his antics, folding his arms and leaning back against the counter. His boyfriend was such a dork.  
  
“We, Albus Potter, are having Indian!” With a flick of his wand, cutlery and plates flew gracefully from the cupboards and placed themselves neatly over the simple dinner table. Albus made no move from his current position, thoroughly enjoying the display before him.  
  
He remembered times when Scorpius was still in his shell, back during their first few years at Hogwarts. Rumours of his parentage were flying and he was teased mercilessly, kids writing ‘son of Voldemort’ on his trunk in permanent ink; bullied for being the son of a former Death Eater, bullied for associating with a Potter. But Albus stuck firmly by his side, refusing to step back. Then his mother died just before their third year and it almost felt like a backward step, but Albus made sure he was there for his best friend as much as he could be.  
  
They didn’t talk about their fourth year much anymore. For Scorpius, it triggered too many thoughts and feelings he’d rather forget. Albus still felt guilty for dragging his best friend through all of that, for forcing him into accidentally creating an alternate universe where he was completely and utterly alone.  
  
Scorpius had forgiven him, once Albus reappeared beside him in the lake he’d said. Albus knew he didn’t deserve someone as kind and caring as Scorpius, and yet he had chosen him.  
  
That adventure (if you could call it that) had sparked something different between them. Their friendship shifted ever so slightly. They were physically touching each other more, out of comfort and reassurance that the other was still there. Slight hand touches, a lot more hugs, heads on shoulders when they were sat together. At least that was what it was at first. They wouldn’t be able to sleep at night without being in the same bed, nightmares occurring virtually every night to either one or both of them. But they’d helped each other through it.  
  
Albus had watched Scorpius blossom, from a shy, insecure, dorky fourteen-year-old into a confident, assertive, dorky young adult. And they had both fallen for each other.  
  
He was broken out of his reverie by his name being called. Scor was looking at him expectantly, his arm outstretched.  
  
“Come on then, Shortcake!”  
  
“I’m enjoying the view. Do you honestly have to call me Shortcake?”  
  
“Yes! You are considerably shorter than me and you taste positively divine,” Scor said with a wink. “Am I going to have to come over there and manhandle you?”  
  
The blatant nature of the suggestion made Albus blush in spite of himself. They were far more than an innocent couple. He recovered by sending back a suggestive smirk, his voice getting increasingly flirty. “Well, I certainly think you need to make it up to me. After all, you did send me into a fit of anxiety for eighteen minutes _and_ then you proceeded to call me names.”  
  
Scor folded his arms, still standing beside the table. “I was late because I went to buy you dinner.” He was trying to be serious but the ever-present flirty tone gave him away. He was giving as good as he was getting. Albus decided to step up his game.  
  
“Oh, so I don’t have to share then? Have I ever told you how much I love you, Beanstalk?”  
  
Scorpius moved but Albus saw it coming and dodged out of the way of his boyfriend’s flailing arms, sprinting round to the other side of the table. Cat vs Mouse.  
  
Only the cat was armed with a wand.  
  
“Levicorpus!”  
  
Albus yelped as an invisible force grabbed him by the ankle, hoisting him up to the ceiling. He struggled for all of three seconds before going limp, resigned to his fate while all the blood rushed to his head.  
  
“Tut tut, Shortcake, rushing at your opponent without your wand, have you learned nothing from your seven years of magical education?” He was plain teasing him now, and Albus wanted nothing more but to snog that smug look off of his face.  
  
Scorpius must have sensed his feelings as there was the scraping of a chair somewhere below him followed by the sudden appearance of Scor’s face at the same level as his, albeit upside down.  
  
“Well, isn’t this wizzo?” And Albus snorted with laughter as his boyfriend captured his mouth in a passionate kiss, his hands either side of his face which felt slightly weird the wrong way round. But Albus was too busy noticing the electricity flowing through him, though that might have been due to the light-headedness he was already experiencing from being suspended in the air by his ankle.  
  
All too soon, his lover pulled away and Albus heard the scraping of the chair again, indicating that Scorpius had returned it to its home at the table. Next moment, he was falling unceremoniously to the floor, only to be caught by strong, pale arms. Albus’ own automatically snaked around his boyfriend’s neck as he leaned into his chest, needing something to grip onto while his body adjusted to being back under the correct influence of gravity.  
  
“You are such a dork,” Albus mumbled, his vision still righting itself.  
  
Scorpius planted a kiss on his nose. “I love you. Now, are you ready to eat?”  
  
“Most definitely. Now put me down, it’s weird being at the same height as you.”  
  
Alas, Scor didn’t put him down immediately. Instead, he proceeded to carry him bridal-style as he walked back around the table to their usual seats. Only then did he set Albus back on his feet, before moving his chair out for him so he could sit down, followed by a little bow.  
  
Albus smiled. “Why thank you, kind sir!” he said before grabbing his man’s wrist and tugging him down into his lap. He then kissed Scorpius with all the love and affection he could muster. “I love you so much, Scor. You’re so damn perfect.”  
  
Scorpius cocked his head to one side, apparently confused. “Even though I just hung you by your ankle from the ceiling and caused you to panic for eighteen minutes before that?”  
  
“Yes. It’s all those little stupid things that you do. They’re brilliant and so are you.”

* * *

  
Much later that evening they were laid together under the covers, Albus’ head on Scorpius’ chest, both exhilarated and exhausted from bedroom shenanigans. Scor’s hand was absently stroking Albus’ hair, the other thumbing circles on his right hip. Albus’ right arm was comfortably thrown across his boyfriend’s chest.  
  
“You know, you are possibly the oddest wizard I know, Albus.”  
  
“Is that so?” Albus replied dryly.  
  
Scorpius shifted, rolling Albus with him as he came to rest against his back, knees tucked under his own. It was natural for them to curl up like this, Scor’s body fit so perfectly around Albus’. He always felt that extra bit safer when encased in his arms like this.  
  
“You see, not only is the duvet inside out but the paint down the hallway now seems to end at my eye level.”  
  
Albus blushed furiously. “Guilty.”  
  
Scorpius chuckled softly as he pressed kisses along the back of his neck and across his shoulder blades. “Sleep now, Al, I’ll sort it in the morning.”  
  
“You will?”  
  
“I certainly will. It’s my day off tomorrow.”

 

 

 

  
_Aesthetic made by me._


End file.
